


touch me, tease me

by lusterrdust



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Cheerleaders, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Strip Tease, lap dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 19:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11020137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusterrdust/pseuds/lusterrdust
Summary: "Jughead is enamored with her, her blonde hair spilling over them like a lustrous curtain and enhancing the sounds of their breathing. He wants to declare his eternal love. He wants to pour out sonnets and ballads and write novels about every freckle on her skin, every blue shade in her eye. He wants to trace his fingers over every inch of her body until there’s no part he hasn’t memorized." [bughead, very nsfw]





	touch me, tease me

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd 
> 
> pure sin
> 
> enjoy xoxo

>  ▱◯♕
> 
> _“I want to be the first thing_  
>  _you touch in the morning,_  
>  _and the last thing you taste_  
>  _at night.”_  
>  _—Sade Andria Zabala_
> 
> ◯

“Again.”

Betty looks up from her hunched position toward Cheryl, the fire-haired force of nature standing nonplussed by the grueling routine she’d just put the vixens through for the seventh time.  

“Cheryl, it’s five-thirty.” Veronica says, noticing Betty’s fatigued form and placing her hands on her waist. “Give it a rest already, we can do the routine in our sleep by now.”

Cheryl rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue with Veronica, surprisingly.

“Fine.” She waves her red manicured nails to the others. “Put your stools away and disperse, Vixens.”

“You okay, B?” Veronica comes over to Betty, bending down to give her a drink from her water bottle.

Flushed cheeks and damp flyaways attached to her forehead, Betty grabs the bottle and takes a generous drink before nodding.

“Yeah.” She says finally, pushing her hair back against her head and feeling her skin tingle with the burn of the workout they’d been doing for the past two hours.

“You up for dinner at Pop’s with me and Cheryl?” Veronica offers with an inviting smile. “My treat.”

“Thanks, V, but I think I’m going to practice just a little longer.” Betty answers with a grateful smile. There’s a Pep Rally in two days and she wants to perfect her routine. “You guys go on without me.”

She’s there for another twenty minutes, stopping herself every few out of frustration in her miscounted moves or wrong steps. By the time the hand on the clock strikes for the next hour, Betty’s found herself completing the routine a few times without mistakes.

Her cheeks are red as she looks into the mirror, moving her body around the stool Cheryl insisted they use as a prop for a few of their rather _risqué_ moves. Betty’s never thought herself as sexy. She’s always been prim and proper, every hair strand in place and not a wrinkle on her cardigan in sight.

Now, however… her eyes blown from her own rushed adrenaline and her tank top damp from sweat, the hems of her spanx ridden up through her dancing, she watches the way her body follows the pulsing beat of the music in an almost hypnotic gaze. She feels _powerful_. Raw. Sensual.

That is, right up until she hears the squeaking scuffle of sneakers on the gym floor, startling her from her routine as she spins on her heels. When she sees her boyfriend standing silent at the entrance doors, Betty feels her whole body flame with embarrassment.

“Jughead!”

He swallows thickly and takes a step into the gym, eyes falling down to her attire before snapping back up to her eyes as a light blush dusts his cheeks. “Uh, hey, Betts.”

“What are you doing here?” she places her hands on her cheeks, feeling them burn before grabbing the stool beside her and put away in a fruitless attempt to tame her blush.  

“I ran into Veronica at Pop’s.” he tells her in a low voice, looking as though he’s struggling to answer her question. “She um, she told me you were still here.”

“Oh.” Betty nods, pushing her fallen hair from her eyes. “Right. Yeah, um. I’m here. I was just getting ready to walk home.”

“Need a ride?” Jughead asks, sticking his hands into his pockets as he leans on his heels.

“Sure.” Betty smiles softly. “Let me just shower real quick and grab my stuff. Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Jughead nods. When she walks away, he can’t help but lick his lips and try to calm his racing heart at the last seconds of witnessing her body move the way it had before he startled her with his own halted shock.

Groaning at the natural sway of her hips, he clenches his eyes shut and thinks of dead puppies and retirement homes.

… … …

Twenty-eight minutes later, they’re in his dad’s truck and Betty’s braiding her damp hair in the passenger’s seat, giving Jughead the pleasant whiff of strawberry shampoo. She asks him about his day over at his other school and he can barely register her continuous questions as his mind replays the sensual sway of her body and length of her smooth legs bending over a stool he finds himself irrationally jealous of.

“Back to your tower, Rapunzel?” he asks with a raised brow and throwing a hook he hopes she’ll catch.

Betty bites her lip and grabs his hand holding the gear shift, wrapping her fingers around his and guiding it down its length with a suggestive look. “Maybe dinner at your place?”

Swallowing through the sandpaper feeling on his tongue, Jughead nods and clears his throat. “Y-yeah.”

Sure, they’ve been intimate before. Twice.

But that had been over six months ago. After their rough breakup over the summer, Betty informed him they should take things slow with their rekindling relationship. Now, however… he seems to be tangled up in her, and caught in her web of seduction. The worst _(or best?)_ part about it, is that he’s one hundred percent certain Betty has no idea what she does to him.

Though dinner with Betty sounds delicious, there’s something other than food Jughead’s hungry to devour.

There are no pretenses once they reach FP’s empty trailer, Betty mewling in pleasure when he cups her face and kisses her deeply. She clutches the sleeves of his flannel hanging off his hips and tugs them loose.

“Jughead, stop.”

Blinking his eyes open, Jughead furrows his brows in confusion before her lips hover near his ear, warm breath tickling the shell of it before she’s whispering sultry words that have him hard in seconds.

“Let me please you.”

He groans her name huskily, feeling his lids flutter closed when her hand pushes against the bulge in his pants. He hadn’t exactly been expecting _this_ when Veronica had told him Betty was still at the school. Not seeing each other for nearly a week though, he’s desperate for her touch and unwilling to refuse such a delicacy being offered to him so freely.

Betty pushes him onto the tacky yellow and orange floral couch, standing over him and using the tip of her small heeled boot to push his legs open. Bending forward, she pushes the leather jacket off his shoulders and kisses the sharp lines of his jaw, only to pull away when he clutches her hips.

“No touching.” She orders, gaining traction in her confidence the longer she witnesses his responses.

At her demand, Jughead releases a heavy breath and stares at her through blown pupils. His body feels like it’s about to jump out of his skin, his erection desperate for her touch. “I thought you said you wanted to please me?” he quips through shallowed breaths. His pleasure is through touching her, not the other way around.

“Did I?” she retorts airily, tugging the elastic from her braid and shaking her hair out before shrugging her cardigan off. “I thought I said _tease_.”

A choked sound escapes his throat.

Fueled by his evident desire to her antics, Betty grabs her phone and connects to the speaker Jughead has on the kitchen counter, putting the song to Cheryl’s routine on until the sultry beats fill the small trailer.

“I thought you were a fan of shows?” she asks, unbuttoning her blouse until the hint of pastel lace can be seen peeking through.

“Christ, Betts—“

“Shh,” Betty bends a knee to push against the space between his thighs on the couch, kissing him soundly before pulling away to fall into her dance. “Just relax, Juggie.”

Jughead lifts his hips slightly off the cushions and digs his palms into his thighs, watching her sway to the music he would’ve hated and mocked five minutes ago. He thinks it’s his favorite song now.

Betty’s hands tremble at first, slightly nervous as she sits herself down on the coffee table and spreads her legs, pulling the hem of her skirt up to give him a glimpse of the evidence of her arousal on her blue panties. The tips of her fingers pat the soaked fabric and any nerves she’d felt earlier are dissipated when Jughead releases a sound she’s never heard him make but is determined to recreate.

Her fingers pull the band of her panties until they fall to the floor when she stands back up and turns around, lost to the music. Different than how she’d felt during practice, Betty feels emboldened by her boyfriend’s breathing as she bends over and flicks her skirt up before flipping her hair back and running her hands down her chest, pulling the rest of the buttons off her blouse until she flings it at Jughead.

Giggling at the way the fabric flops over his beanie clad head, she reaches forward to pull it off, grabbing his beanie in the process and throwing them to the floor. He has a crooked smile plastered on his face, the mood altered slightly by her amusement until she swipes her arm over the coffee table, knocking everything on top of it off to the ground so she can slide her body onto it.

Like a hypnotist’s focal point, Jughead can only stare dazedly at the way Betty’s chest moves through the strain of her bra with each mesmerizing arch of her body. His mouth goes dry when she shimmies out of her skirt, and finally, the restraint he’s had is snapped.

Pushing himself off the couch with a growl, he falls to his knees on the floor and yanks her toward him, his teeth biting marks into the curves of her thighs. She dips her head back and keens when his mouth parts her center, moaning when the taste of her falls on his tongue.

His hands move up her bare legs, spreading them wide as he moves his face, his nose brushing her clit and making her pant with desire. Her fingers grip his locks, tugging until there’s a stinging pain in his scalp that he welcomes with fervency.

“ _Fu…ck_ , Jughead,” she cries out in a high pitched whine, staring at the ceiling through lidded eyes and succumbing to the pleasurable sensations his tongue is doing to her most sensitive area. “J-Juggie, don’t stop.”

Her pleading forces him to ravish her more urgently, his own erection throbbing with the need to be buried in her. Her hips lift off the table until he pushes them back down roughly, holding her in place until she’s squirming against his mouth and he can feel her legs tremble under his touch.

She so close, he brings a finger up to slip inside her, coaxing her into a powerful orgasm that has her gripping the ledges of the wood beside her head to stabilize herself.

When she comes down from her cosmic high, Betty glares at Jughead’s self satisfied smirk and pushes him back with the heel of her boot. “Take your clothes off.”

He doesn’t waste time before obeying, stripping down and shuddering when she grips him tightly in her hand. She drags her thumb over the tip, spreading his precum over the slit and forcing his eyes to roll back in ecstasy. “You’ve been a bad boy, Mr. Jones.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jughead has never heard Betty like this—never seen her have _this_ much control, but he’s absolutely debauched for it. “Betts—“

“Do you need to be punished?” she asks, pushing him against the couch again and falling to her knees. The sound of her playlist is still lingering in the room, the suggested songs following her original one for the routine leaving the air heavier than normal.

Jughead shudders at the feel of her warm breath on his tip and grunts out an inaudible ‘ _yes’_. He doesn’t care what he answers to, he just wants this moment to last as long as it can.

Betty opens her mouth and dips her head, causing him to hold his breath as he anticipates her wet mouth enveloping him. Except, she pulls away at the last second and stands up, forcing him to gape at her for her cruelty. Before he can mutter the words, she’s straddling him and guiding herself down on his member, forcing his head to fall back against the cushions when she stays immobile.

He moves his hands to grip her hips, guiding her movement until she bites down hard on his shoulder. “Ow!”

“No touching.”

“Wh—Betty,” he moves to yank her bra off, sliding the material down her arms and moving his hands up to cup her breasts. “I need to touch you. _Let me touch you_.”

His beg breaks her strict demands, and Betty nods, feeling her chest clench with a mix of love and lust when he wastes no time in taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth. “ _Oh_.”

She rides him with no restraints, grinding her front against the trail of hairs that lead up to his belly button. The friction of them against her already swollen clit has her climbing the peak to nirvana at the same pace as Jughead. His hands are moving over her body, every place they can reach and spreading the glistening sweat over her skin like watercolors on a canvas. He groans and meets her strides with fervent juts of his hips, watching with fascination as her lips part in a silent cry.

“Come on,” Jughead grits out, hands gripping her hips once more to roughly drag her body up and down his aching cock. “Come on, Betty.”

“Yes, yes,” she chants deliriously over him.

Jughead is enamored with her, her blonde hair spilling over them like a lustrous curtain and enhancing the sounds of their breathing. He wants to declare his eternal love. He wants to pour out sonnets and ballads and write novels about every freckle on her skin, every blue shade in her eye. He wants to trace his fingers over every inch of her body until there’s no part he hasn’t memorized.

Pulling her up, Jughead and Betty both cry out at the sensation before he’s flipping her over, her knees digging into the cushion seats and her hands clutching the headrest. His hand gathers her hair and twirls it with a gentle tug before he slips back into her, feeling her deeper at this angle.

“Oh, _God_ , right there, Juggie!” Betty cries out, heightening the fire in his stomach as his hips slam against her backside with each eager thrusts and his free hand caresses the curve of it and up her back. “Right there, I’m so close!”

Jughead clenches his eyes shut and feels the beginning shockswaves of his orgasm creeping up on him. “Goddamnit!” he pants, reaching over to furiously rub her clit. “Come for me, Betty. Cum on me.”

“ _Yes_.” Betty clenches around him tightly, her body stuttering with a powerful wave of pleasure and pulling Jughead with her only milliseconds behind. He groans long and loud into the room, hand still clutching her hair and tracing circles over her bundle of nerves.

When he finally pulls out a few moments later, falling the floor and onto his beanie and her blouse, Jughead lays still to catch his breath. Betty squeezes herself into his side, the hot and damp feel of her skin on his making him hyper aware of the tremors of his orgasm.

She smells like strawberries.

His tongue waters.

“I know you hate the word, but _Jesus_ , you’re perfect, Betty.” He breathes out, tilting her head up to draw her into a lazy kiss. He’s relieved to feel her lips pull into a smile against his own. “You’re amazing.”

“So are you.” She responds sweetly, kissing his lips and then ducking her head to kiss his bare chest. There are a few moments of silence before she breaks it with a small sigh. “I love you, Jughead.”

Soft words spoken, he tilts his head and studies her with obvious ardency. “I love you, too.”

Betty sighs lightly against him. “I missed you this week.”

“So did I.” he responds honestly before moving his fingers up to play with her hair. “Despite what you might believe, my intentions to bring you over _were_ pure. I was just going to serve you dinner, and maybe cuddle afterward.”

“Oh, yes.” Betty snorts against him with a giggle. “You’re nothing if not pure, Jughead.”

“You dare mock me, Cooper?” he raises a brow playfully before shaking his head. “And to think I was going to offer you pasta and chocolate cake.”

“Cake?” she lifts her head, giving him a hopeful look as her teeth worry her bottom lip. “Cheryl says I shouldn’t eat high calorie foods if—“

Playful intentions evaporated, Jughead leans onto his forearms and grimaces. “I couldn’t give two shits what Cheryl says you should do. Now I’m _really_ going to feed you cake.”

“You weren’t before?” Betty laughs lightly, catching his lips with her own before pulling back to smooth the crease between his brows with her thumb.

“Come on,” he stands to his feet, helping her up as he yanks his boxers and jeans back on. Betty grabs his flannel off the ground and buttons it on over herself before she’s at his side and wrapping her arms around his midriff.

“Feed me then, Jones.”

Gaze softened, Jughead stares, completely smitten, at the view of her in his flannel, her waves tumbling over her shoulders in messy ringlets. Her pink lipstick is smudged and her toes are digging into the carpet, awaiting his retort to her teasing banter. He’ll give her anything, he realizes in that moment, and only one thing comes to mind at her demand.

“Anything for you, Betty.”


End file.
